


Proper Channels

by divagonzo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Percy the bureaucrat, Post-Battle of Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 23:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9094957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divagonzo/pseuds/divagonzo
Summary: The war has been over less than twenty four hours and Percy Weasley has been working for the last sixteen in the Ministry to keep Death Eaters incarcerated. He's not coping well until she walks in wearing lime green robes - and he's smitten and she's short-tempered.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Interhouse 2016 on LJ and is a follow-up to Best day he'd never remember.

* * *

Percy bent over the parchment in front of him trying to read the illegible rubbish in front of his myopic eyes. But he had to finish this page before he took a necessary break.

“Merlin, how long have you been at it?”

Percy looked up from the feet of parchment stacked on his work desk. Kingsley gave him the lion’s share of the inspection of reports from the Thicknesse regime’s reign of terror for the last year. Each foot in his hands, documenting yet another illegal incarceration or worse – another illegal death sentence via Dementor’s Kiss – made him want to weep for all those killed who weren’t pure enough. Sure enough, the Minister was standing in the doorway, looking worse for wear. Percy felt how the imposing Minister looked. 

“I dunno. What time is it?”

“Half past four in the morning.”

“Then it’s been about 16 hours now. When we left Umbridge’s office I brought the binders and went to work.”

“Well, I brought this,” Kingsley handed over a potion and Percy looked at it.

“Pepper-up potion?” Kingsley nodded and Percy downed it immediately. Steam blew out his ears and he felt a touch better, even with the exhaustion gnawing on his bones. “I’ll also put a cheering charm on you, ‘cause we have another day’s worth of work to do before we can break.”

“I don’t need the cheering charm, sir. I can cope with the pepper-up potion. But I might need another before then, too, maybe in four hours or so.” Percy saw the Minister’s frown and cut across any potential arguments. “Yes, I know they can be addictive but it takes a month to get there. I’ll avoid taking potions two days from now since we are swamped.”

“And you need a Healer to check you over before I let you go back to work.”

“That’s unnecessary, sir. My wounds aren’t physical. Those were treated at Hogwarts.” He bit the inside of his cheek to force down what he didn’t want to think about.

“I still want you cleared by a healer.”

“No,” Percy went back to his stack of parchment. “I’m sorry sir, but there are hundreds of other people who fought at Hogwarts who need a healer’s care first. Besides,” he waved at the binders and stacks and mounds of parchment in front of him, “what hurts me isn’t physical and the only thing helping me cope right now is keeping the monsters downstairs locked in their cells. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get back to work.”

“You’re barmy, Weasley, but I’ll send by a Healer to check on you later today. I won’t have you falling over dead in the office from an injury that was overlooked.”

“Minister, I’m here now.” Percy saw _her_ walk in and dropped his quill. “I can check him immediately before returning to Hogwarts.”

“That was fast, Healer Reeves.” Kingsley regarded the tall witch accordingly. “And nice to see you back in appropriate robes.”

“As soon as you walked in and made your declaration at St. Mungo’s, I changed from those odious robes they make medi-witches wear. I swear wearing those made me feel wretched, like I wasn’t worth my credentials. Sodding idiots. Once I changed and put on Lime, I had plenty to help in the wards. I tended a dozen of the least injured Hogwarts survivors before I came over.” Healer Reeves looked at Percy at the desk, hunched over but imitating a house-elf. “Stand up Mr. Weasley, and remove your jacket and waistcoat. I’m giving you an assessment before returning to Hogwarts. I won’t have you falling out when it could be prevented.”

“You were short-tempered with me the last time, which if I recall was about nine months ago.”

Healer Reeves stiffened once before her professional mask slipped into place. “Minister, while I am assessing him, please inform Mr. Weasley of the actual situation regarding his circumstances.”

“Sir?” Percy looked confused but did as Healer Reeves requested. He doffed his attire, leaving him in a dress-shirt that looked like it was meant for Charlie or the twins. Fuck. Fred. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from shedding tears over Fred. They wouldn’t help him at all or the people he was trying to keep incarcerated downstairs. But even standing before a gorgeous witch and feeling more inadequate than usual didn’t ameliorate his feelings about Fred and his family.

“You fought at Hogwarts yesterday, correct?” Healer Reeves took out a stack of parchment and a self-scribing quill, setting it to work to transcribe while she used her wand for the examination.

“I did. I was there until the Minister recalled me to find additional evidence of Umbridge and Yaxley’s involvement in the deaths of Muggles.”

“Well, Mr. Weasley, you have had your memory modified ten times since our first meeting that you are recalling.”

Percy looked over the top of his glasses, regarding the witch in front of him. “Ten times?”

Healer Reeves saw the confusion on his face. “Yes, Mr. Weasley, ten times. You begged us to protect you while you were in the ministry, keeping your vital work hidden from anyone who could perform Legillimens on you.”

“Umbridge had someone testing you monthly for loyalty so I asked Healer Reeves to remove those memories too. No one would suspect her, not when she wasn’t a pureblood Healer. But I trusted her completely.”

“But now that Minister Shacklebolt tells me that it’s reasonably safe, you need your memories unlocked.” She finished her exam with her wand. “Besides some minimal malnutrition that can be fixed with regular meals and some exhaustion for obvious reasons, all he needs now are his memories restored and then we can go from there.”

“Sir, they can wait.”

“No, it really can’t because we don’t know when Healer Reeves will be available to help in the near future.”

“But I have all of this to work through and if what she says is true, then the restoration of those memories will impede my vital work on keeping Yaxley and Umbridge in the cells downstairs. My well-being can wait until we have the evidence to keep them incarcerated until their trials.” Percy tapped his head. “I don’t feel anything missing so I can function until I choose to have them restored.”

“He’s right, Minister. Restoring his memories now will incapacitate him at least a day, if not longer.” She looked Percy up and down, letting a ghost of a smile touch her eyes before she returned to professional stoicism. “Come see me in 10 days at my office at St. Mungo’s. I’ll restore them then, and help you cope with the immediate aftermath.” She opened her satchel and stashed the parchment and quills into it, buckling the fastners.

“Why ten days?” Percy slid his waist coat and jacket back on. “I should be finished with this in a week.”

Audrey frowned further. “Mr. Weasley,” Healer Reeves stowed her quill and parchment. “You’re not the only one who lost someone in the fighting. I am a Healer but I’m human and need time to grieve and process.” She handed Percy her card. “Owl that location and make an appointment. I know I have an opening ten days from now.” She departed without another word to the men.

“Who did she lose in the fighting, sir?”

“It’s the first I heard of it, Weasley. But you keep working on that stack of parchment and then find time for a kip. You’ll be needed the next few weeks and I’ll not have you passing out on me.”

“Yes, sir. Understood. I’ll get back on this immediately.”

Kingsley made for the door. “Need anything?”

Percy deflated for a moment before sitting up straight in his chair. “I need my little brother back.”

Kingsley left the office and didn’t see Percy bury his head in his hands, weeping for the loss of the brother who forgave him first.

* * *

Percy knocked on the door to the non-descript office and went inside. The sterile office was cramped with medical grade wood chairs and a couch that would fit in the hovel known as his flat.

“Mr. Weasley, I presume?” He saw the opaque glass slide aside to show a very elderly witch with purple hair sitting behind the partition. “Healer Reeves is running about ten minutes behind on your appointment. Please have a seat and fill out the stack of parchment next to the chair on the left. And yes, every sheet is important to sign or initial.” The partition closed and he turned to where the receptionist directed him. 

Sure enough, there were 10 parchment sheets in a small binder along with an inkwell and quill. “Lovely,” he said to himself before sitting down. The basics were easy, such as name, address, and birth date. But the other seven sheets were medical documents that he scanned before initialing in various places. “This is rubbish,” he said to himself over the fifth page of medical releases to various healers and medi-witches currently on staff. “You’d think they were all going to be in the room with us.”

He finished the stack of parchment and turned it into the receptionist. The partition slid open before he could knock on the window. “Will Healer Reeves be long?” he inquired.

“She’s almost finished. It’ll be maybe another five minutes or so.” The receptionist used her wand to open a window into the second office and saw Healer Reeves writing her notes. “She’ll be with you shortly, Mr. Weasley.”

“Where did the other patient go?”

“Go, sir? Oh no, Mr. Weasley. No one else has been in this morning. Healer Reeves was reviewing your entire chart so she can help you as you need.”

“I don’t have a large chart of information to review. I rarely get sick enough to come to St. Mungo’s.”

“I’m quoting the Healer, sir.” The partition closed and Percy felt a cold shiver start at the base of his spine and work upward.

Percy went to sit down and wait.

He hated waiting. So much of his downtime was waiting. His mind raced while waiting: waiting on Mum to quit crying; waiting on Dad to come in from his shed; waiting on Ginny to come down from flying like a mad as hell Dragon; waiting on Charlie to be home more than five minutes before he’s off again at a pub; waiting on George to sober up enough to eat something so he doesn’t join his twin in the cold ground; waiting on Bill to actually talk with him.

Percy pulled a pocket square out and wiped his wet glasses and eyes.

“Mr. Weasley?”

He turned back towards the wall and saw the expanse of white wall now had a door. It was open and Healer Reeves stood in the doorway. “Percy, I’m ready for you.”

He stood up and adjusted his glasses and robes and followed her into the office. He stepped inside and heard a noise behind him, squelching shut. “That’s for privacy for the current patient. The door on the other side is for when you are ready to leave.” He saw a polished oaken door with a brass knob in front of him.

She motioned to him towards a squishy armchair to his left, complete with a cup of tea. “We’re not going to be here this long, are we?”

“May I call you Percy?” He nodded. “Percy, this isn’t only about restoration of your memories that were adjusted while you were working for Minister Umbridge. This is also about the consequences of what was done to you and helping you cope with what you did.”

He felt his temper taking hold. “Look, I’m here for you to break the memory charm. I have to get back to my brother who is blackout drunk on my couch at my rubbish flat. I don’t have time to sit two, three hours to spend working through my memories. I can do that at home over some takeaway from Old Tom at the Leaky or if I’m feeling rather self-pitying I can go get pissed with Aberforth in Hogsmeade. He’s a dodgy bloke but pretty good at listening to my grousing.”

Healer Reeves face turned cold instantly. “And when you’re curled up on the ground in your loo after what you remember and can’t cope, you will beg me to come over straightaway to nursemaid you because of something you didn’t realize happened and the thought of what happened threatens to break you completely. Once you walk out that door, Mr. Weasley, I won’t be available to assist you until you make another appointment, which might take a fortnight, or a month, because of my schedule.” She turned to sit in her chair and her face was back to professional. “Now, I have three hours blocked off today for you. If you would like, I can owl someone to check on your brother while you are in here. Would you like that?”

Her temper checked his attitude. He wanted to walk out and abandon this barmy idea but Fred’s nagging voice upbraided him for walking out again. “Yes, please,” he whimpered and thought he heard Fred cheer for his small act of courage. “Please owl my Dad at the ministry. I have warding charms on my flat that only he can enter.”

She pulled a piece of parchment from her desk and wrote a quick note on it then tapped her wand on it. It disappeared immediately. “My secretary will owl your father at the Ministry. Your brother will be looked after while you’re in here.” She stashed the quill and parchment in her desk and brought a second chair to sit in front of him. He wanted to burrow back into the cushions but refused. “Now, since I’m the one who performed the memory charms on you all ten times, I know how to unlock what happened. If I do it all at once, it will probably knock you sideways for hours. But if that is how you want to handle it, I will do so.”

“And if we did them one at a time? That seems more prudent.”

“That would probably take all three hours and you could cope easier.”

Percy sat in his comfortable chair, considering the missing moments over the last ten months. “But I don’t have hours to spare, at least today.”

“Yes, you do. Kingsley sent me an owl, telling me that you are excused from work today.”

“This is ridiculous.” Percy went to stand up from the chair and pace the floor.

“And you’re welcome to walk out that door anytime you feel like it.” Her voice was dispassionate, like she wouldn’t be arsed either way he acted.

Percy froze, his bum barely touching the leather of the seat. “You’d let me walk out that door and that be it, wouldn’t you?”

“I would. I won’t force you. But I will also make any further contact we have professional and not social or personal, like you requested often.”

He sat back down in the chair. “You’d go that far?”

“I would, Percy. I won’t see you socially if you are my patient but I would leave that opportunity available. But if you walk out that door and refuse to confront your fears, that tells me that you aren’t the man I thought you might be.”

He scowled and felt the start of a terrible headache. “That’s low, Healer.”

“It’s painfully honest, Mr. Weasley, and that is your choice.”

“But you’re a Hufflepuff, not a bloody Slytherin.”

“You mistake me, Mr. Weasley. You consider my candor as being a Slytherin. It isn’t. But I won’t waste my time on someone who will run when things get hard. That is all Hufflepuff.”

“I came back,” he whispered.

“And how long was it before you realized you were being manipulated and corrupted while working for the junta?”

“That’s not fair.” He shrunk down into the chair. “I didn’t realize it the first time.”

“What about the second time?”

He stopped mid-thought and squinted. “How do you know so much about me?”

Healer Reeves held up a binder filled with parchment. “As the Ministry’s top Mind Healer, as appointed by interim Minister Shacklebolt, I have access to files. Your file was in Umbridge’s office and the Minister gave it to me for safe-keeping.” She held it up and he saw the word **possible** **traitor** marked in red on the outside. “Had it stayed in her office, and been found by someone other than Kingsley, you’d be facing an Inquiry, at the least, and possible charges of treason and a potential life-sentence at Azkaban. As it stands now, you’re under a Healer’s care for trauma for working for Umbridge and working towards documenting what happened.”

“So I have to do this to stay free.”

“You’re still entitled to walk out that door, Mr. Weasley. I am giving you an opportunity to do what is best for you and the Ministry.”

Percy looked around while trying to stall. She deftly maneuvered him, with Kingsley’s help, into a corner he couldn’t get out of – not without their help. “You win. I’ll accept your treatment. I accept being your patient.” He waited for her to show triumph – or even smug arrogance – but she didn’t display it on her face. She acted like that it was the logical choice and the most prudent one for him. “You and Kingsley manipulated this.”

“How is logic and wisdom manipulation? I don’t force people. Unlike Kingsley, I believe in giving consequences to actions. You are smart, Percy, and knew that if you understood the consequences of alternate choices, you’d choose wisely. How is it manipulation to point it out dispassionately?”

He crossed his arms and pouted but saw no arrogance on her face. Sod her for being right.

“Now, how would you like to handle this, Mr. Weasley? Do you want all of them unlocked today, even though it will be painful?”

“Why are you helping me? Is it duty to Kingsley?”

“It’s not duty, Mr. Weasley.” She leaned forward in her chair and he shrunk back some. “Maybe it’s foolishness on my part but when I first met you, and how polite you were, I was smitten, even if you were going to turn my world upside down and inside-out. You are tall, articulate, dutiful, honest, but for the most part, kind-hearted. Those are rare traits, Mr. Weasley.”

“But you’re protecting me, aren’t you?”

“I am. And when I unlock those memory charms, I fear that your opinion will change, about yourself. My duty, if you will, is that I can help you cope with what happened and heal from all of it.” Her face softened, if that was possible. She reminded him of his mother when she had less than pleasant news to share. 

He felt his heart crash into his stomach. “You know, don’t you, what you’ve locked away.”

“I do. I also locked everything away where no one here could access those memories, not without permanent damage. You begged me to do that, to protect you. I documented everything and I wrote it in a way that only I could read. ”

“You used foreign magic!” A lightbulb went off in his head. “You wrote it in your grandmother’s language, right? What was it, Japanese?”

Healer Reeves bristled. “It was Cantonese, which certainly isn’t Japanese.”

“Sorry!” He put his hands up reflexively. “I couldn’t remember exactly and guessed.”

Healer Reeves snorted. “Sorted. Now that little bit is out of the way, it’s time to unlock your memories.” She pulled her wand from her robes and he saw a very beautiful wand in her hands.

“That is a beautiful wand.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. “It’s a cherry wood wand with a unicorn hair, 14 inches and somewhat brittle. I had to grow into it. Ollivander spent a bit of time finding it for me.” She laid it on her lap. “Do you have any last questions?”

“Will it hurt?”

“Only when you absorb what had been locked away. Now, sit back in the chair and close your eyes.”

Percy did and heard the candles extinguish, leaving the room in some fragrance he couldn’t pinpoint.

“Now I want you to recall the first time we met. It was a warm day in August, almost a year ago.”

Percy smiled, looking at the witch who had walked into his office for her 8am appointment. She was wearing green robes but they were cut differently than he was accustomed to seeing. She was no-nonsense and her eyes captivated him. He saw a bright light through his eyelids and heard her say something he couldn’t repeat. He focused on the first memory of her, like she asked him but felt others starting to smother that one out. He held onto it but recalled seeing her again in the Ministry canteen and again at St. Mungo’s.

Images started flooding into his mind and he groaned. He’d see her at St. Mungo’s often, it seems, repairing the harm inflicted on his hands and arms from Umbridge’s blood quill, demanding his name signed in blood to secure his loyalty. By the second quill signing, the infections were setting in. He learned through casual conversations in the department that there was an additional spell enchanted on the quill. Umbridge learned from a particular pupil during her stint at Hogwarts about demanding loyalty – and the price of being disloyal. And he understood that if he showed back up at his desk at the Ministry, under the watchful gaze of Minister Umbridge, with an infected arm, she’d have banished him to Azkaban – or had him kissed – for Treason.

The memories smothered him, making him recall the agony in his arms and hands, slowly being poisoned to death for being a traitor to the Ministry. One time, he considered letting the poison work, for abandoning his family, dishonoring his friend, and feeling oblivion for his cocked-up life.

“It’s too much,” he groaned.

Memories flooded back faster – agony from watching countless people being sent to Azkaban and being able to do nothing about it except record their names. He felt his mind breaking at watching one particular man be kissed, screaming mercy and his inaction like a charm, forcing him to stand still and witness his demise. And there were those who fought Umbridge reign of terror and he was powerless to stop them, too, from being kissed in front of him. He couldn’t watch those poor souls being dragged out of the court room and didn’t bother to see what happened to them.

His brain exploded in memories and he felt so distant from his body.

The gnawing in his stomach from not eating because he hated his job so much, but stayed at it because there were hundreds of witches and wizards being maliciously persecuted – all because they weren’t purebloods. His pain was a small measure of commiseration with those who were being tormented and hounded by the might of the Ministry.

How he wished he could use a charm on his ears daily, ignoring the wailing of women being separated from their children – because the Mum was a Muggleborn. He refused to look at the children who watched in agony as their mother was dragged away, leaving them alone. He felt the bile in his throat from reading the daily lists of orphans left behind by those too young to attend Hogwarts and yet too old to be given to a deserving family. And there was more bile by the list of children who were stricken from the Hogwart’s list for not being documented – and the eventual disappearances.

“Make it stop,” he begged.

“I’m here,” a disenchanted voice echoed through his head. “Come to me,” it implored. He reached out and felt warmth and comfort.

“You’re safe.”

Percy cracked his eyes and saw he was on the ground and being held by the Healer. “You’re safe.”

He closed his eyes and bawled. He wept for those he couldn’t save. He wept for the justice he’d bring on their behalf against the witch who broke so many families. He wept for Fred after wasting years shunning his family.

* * *

Percy wrapped his muffler around his face and continued walking towards the grotty pub he preferred. No one would bother him in that particular hovel unless severely pissed but his session with Healer Reeves was cocked up and he wanted a drink. Aberforth was good for it, including taking his galleons where many wouldn’t, like Old Tom. Bless Aberforth for understanding him to some degree and treating him the same, whether it was a traitor or a hero. As long as his galleons were good, he could be himself.

He pushed open the decrepit door and went inside and was immediately engulfed in pipe smoke. Today, it was what he needed.

He walked up to the bar and caught Aberforth’s eye and waited. “Pick your poison, Weasley.”

The hubbub of the bar went quiet for a moment before starting up. Heads turned away when they saw it wasn’t his younger brother, one of the Heroes of Hogwarts, as the papers dubbed him. “Ogden’s double distilled and make it a double.”

“Three galleons and I’ll see you home for it.”

“Fair point.” Percy fished out the galleons from his pocket and pushed them across the bar.

“So what’s got your pants pinched?”

“It’s about a woman,” Percy answered before tipping back the whiskey. The burn felt good before he belched, spewing blue fire. “One more, if you please.” He plunked down two more galleons.

“You’ve not had two doubles since the night of your brother’s funeral. What happen, she break it off with you? You caught her in bed with another man? Another woman? A werewolf?”

“It’s nothing so tawdry, Aberforth.” He took the second and held the dark distilled beverage in his hands. “You know I’m seeing a healer, right?”

“Like dating or shagging?”

“Neither. The stuff during that year cocked up my head and she’s helping me sort it.”

“That doesn’t sound like something that you would need to be completely pissed in five minutes.”

“No, it’s that I want to see her socially, ‘cause I fancy her, but since she’s my Healer, she won’t talk to me outside of the sessions.”

“So quit going to see her and ask her out. That seems quite simple to me, if you ask me.”

“I’ve got another few months to go before I don’t need to see her that way.” He tossed back the second drink and belched fire, earning some drunk in the corner to shut his gob or take it outside. “But blimey, she’s good at what she does and I’d be arsed if I didn’t ask her out once I’m done seeing her as a patient. But I dunno if she’s seeing anyone.” He stared at his glass and ran his fingers along the rim. “I’ll be arsed if she’s dating someone else.”

“So ask her and deal.”

Percy ignored the last comment. “You ever see someone who turned your head and you said, ‘there’s my future?’”

“Nope. Witches never interested me and I lost interest in the blokes after a while. But running this place is enough, that and cleaning up after pissed patrons.”

“Well, I want to be the man she would like a future with and I have no bloody clue how to go about it.” Percy looked up and his eyes were bloodshot. “She wants a man of courage but I’m the only coward in a family of heroes.”

“Join the crowd, Weasley. You think I could do much in my Brother’s shadow? And after Mum died and then Arianna? I was content to be the Dumbledore that was content to run a pub, not save the world.”

“How’d you manage it? How did you cope being out of your brother’s shadow? Hell, Ron’s more of a hero than I am. I can’t go a week without seeing his name in the blood paper for something heroic or marketing something for the bloody shop.”

“Aw, quit having a fucking pity party and grow up.”

“You would know,” Percy snarled and pushed his glass over. “One more.”

“And when I do, I’ll shove you through that fireplace and let you make a mess in your own bloody flat.”

“Fair price to pay tonight, I reckon.” Percy pulled the last two galleons from his pocket and slapped them down on the bar.

Aberforth pulled the bottle from the hiding place and poured one more measure. “Don’t come whining to me about being whiskey dick in the morning.”

“No chance of that, not while that bloody healer is trying to sort the shite in my head.”

The barkeep pushed the glass back and Percy took a measured sip.

“You want to know how I did it? Really?”

“Yeah, I do. It seems that I’m the current fuck-up in the family now that Ron has that little set of purple wands for his robes. Hell, she won’t fancy me, not a coward.”

“You quit caring what everyone thinks of you and start wondering what you think of yourself.”

“That’s easy,” Percy slurred. “I’m a fucking coward.”

“Bollocks and you know it.”

“Says you?”

“Yeah, me. You stayed at the fucking ministry,” he dropped his voice down further, “and worked in the belly of the beast while also getting the muggles out. You did what you had to while working for that monster Umbridge and stayed at it, fucking up your own head, and made sure there was enough sodding parchment on all those bastards to get them a life stent in Azkaban.” Aberforth stood up tall with his blazing blue eyes. “I see a bureaucrat who has as much courage as his Auror brother, and used his skills to do what he did best in the worst situation. And ‘cause you made that bloody parchment, others used it to put the Toad away for good – Yaxley too.” Aberforth leaned over the bar, getting almost nose to nose with Percy. “You’re not the only bastard who thinks he’s a coward. You’re not. You are a bloody hero, whether you realize it or not. Those damn souls that Umbridge murdered thank you for getting them justice.”

“You know how to cheer a pissed bloke up.”

“You’re welcome. Now take your ass home and sleep it off.”

Percy stood up from his barstool and went to the fireplace. He yelled his address to the third floor flat on Diagon Alley and spun away from the Hog’s Head, wishing he could keep his stomach settled until he made it to the toilet in his flat.

* * *

“She’ll see you now, Mr. Weasley.”

Percy stood up from the chair in the waiting room and entered the Healer’s office. He hadn’t made an appointment to see Healer Reeves in a month, once the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts came and went two months ago. He knew that the relationship he had with Healer Reeves was changing and he was going to be the one to change it – for the better, hopefully.

He stepped into her office and found the comfortable chair that he spent many an hour in. “Ah, Mr. Weasley. It is nice to see you. It has been a while since you’ve made an appointment.”

He settled in and felt the subtle warming charm on the leather of the chair. “I’ve been coping pretty well since our last appointment.”

“How’s the family, including George?”

“George is still going and probably will for some time. He has more good days than bad ones, which is all we can ask for.”

“So why have you made an appointment for today and came to see me?” Mirth danced across her face.

“I’m ready to change our relationship, from professional to social. You’ve seen me at my absolute worst and still helped.” He blushed and adjusted his glasses. “You’re an amazing witch and I’d like to thank you by taking you out for a nice meal but I can’t do that if you’re still my Healer.”

“You made an appointment with me, to ask me out on a date?”

Percy smiled. “You did say you respected a man with courage.”

“I have.”

“And facing my trauma took courage I didn’t know I had until I came to you.”

Healer Reeves smiled. “I’m glad you realize that.”

“And you were so patient with me, letting me heal at my own pace.”

“I have.”

“And I know I’m not cured and that I will have bad days and days where I want to sit in a chair, staring at a wall with no distractions.”

“Go on,” she smiled and he felt his insides getting butterflies at her stare that twisted his soul in all the right knots.

“But I know that I would love for you to share my life, even for a moment.”

“Really, Mr. Weasley?” He fought down a blush over his admission but stopped when he saw her cheeks flushed pink.

“Well,” he stammered, “if you’d consent to go out with me first. I’d like to court you, properly.”

“How long have you thought on this, Mr. Weasley?”

“A few months. But I also realized that I respect what you said, about the Healer/patient relationship and how you focused on helping me was more important than courting prospects.”

“I hope you realize that, if we change the nature of how we interact, that I will be ethically obligated to not help you, not as a mind Healer. You would have to see someone else if you are in need of help in that way.”

“That’s fine.”

“But I am not someone to mother you.”

“I would never – “

“I’m saying it now, on the front end, so there’s no backsliding and no expectations.”

“I’ve dated before – “

“Not someone like me, Mr. Weasley. I am my own woman, with obligations and a life aside of you. I have a job I love and activities I enjoy. I will share moments of my life with you but I will not give it up to be with you.”

“I’d never ask –“

“And furthermore, I am not submissive or subservient. I will treat you right but you will honor and respect me. I will not be treated less than I deserve or expect.”

Percy stood up and pointed at Healer Reeves. “That’s enough! I respect strong women and I’ll be arsed if you think I won’t treat you as I treat my mother.”

Audrey stood up from her chair and stalked towards Percy. “Is that so, Mr. Weasley?”

“Absolutely. I know I hurt my mother and I’ve worked tirelessly to make amends to her, and my Father, for what I’ve done. But I will not accept being a cuckold, not even from you.”

“Is that so, Mr. Weasley?” She stepped closer.

“Yes, it is.” He closed the gap.

“So this means you are officially ending our Healer/Patient relationship?” She moved inside his personal space and stopped.

“I am because I want to see you outside of this room, socially, and hopefully more.” He moved to in front of her, barely looking her eye to eye.

“Good.”

“Brilliant.” He pulled her to him and kissed her chastely once before releasing Audrey from his arms. “Blimey! I am – “

Audrey pulled him back to her by his hips and kissed him back, melting into it. They continued, letting the pent-up passion that had built over months wash over both of them and only broke contact when he couldn’t hold his breath any longer.

“Now you see why I was smitten with you.” She opened her eyes. “I knew there was a passionate man somewhere in there. I needed to get through the layers of bureaucracy to find him.”

“So you will?” He stepped back slightly to look Audrey eye to eye. “You will go out with me on a date and not to the Leaky Cauldron?”

“I will if you let me pick the place. If we are going to eat, I want something new for you to experience. Finding a place with excellent cuisine in London like my grandmother could make is difficult but there is one place. I also won’t ask you to buy dinner for both of us. It’s expensive so asking you to – “

He felt his cheeks flushing. He’d been on his own for years but the issue of money was still a sensitive topic. “I have galleons in my vault. I worked many years saving them and living in a two room flat that I can afford a very nice dinner date with an amazing woman worthy to spend my galleons.”

“I’m free Saturday evening. I will meet you at the Leaky Cauldron and then we can walk to the restaurant.”

“Is it far?” He felt his head swimming from how fast things were moving.

“Not far, maybe a mile from Diagon Alley. It’s a nice walk.”

“So it’s a date?”

“Yes, I accept the fact that I am no longer your healer and I accept your request for a date on Saturday evening.”

Percy went to the door, grinning like confunded troll. “I look forward to you being more than just my Healer.”

“Percy?” He stopped and looked back at Audrey. “You don’t have to go through any proper channels to owl me from now on.”

“Ta muchly, Miss Reeves.” He left her office and took four steps before dancing in her side hallway.


End file.
